


Lost down the river bed

by Elisexyz



Series: Mental Health Whump Timeless Challenge [4]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas Isn't Canon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Future Fic, Gen, Lyatt Friendship Centred, garcy is background
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-27 07:31:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18734458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: It takes three nights of hell, half his supply of coffee and an imminent nervous breakdown for Wyatt to finally pick up the phone.





	Lost down the river bed

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the prompt "Learning" in the [Mental Health Whump Challenge by newisalwaysbetter](https://heytheredeann.tumblr.com/post/184648324764/mental-health-whump). This was yesterday's prompt (...again LOL), but in my defense I was all over the place yesterday, so I just bingewatched the new season of Lucifer instead of doing anything remotely productive, as you do.  
>    
>  I generally don't focus that much on Lucy and Wyatt because they are not among my favourite relationships in the show, but *shrug* I hope you'll like the experiment!

 

It takes three nights of hell, half his supply of coffee and an imminent nervous breakdown for Wyatt to finally pick up the phone.

After they were all allowed to go home, Lucy immediately expressed some concern over him staying alone with a newborn while Denise tries to figure out Jessica’s situation and lets her sit in prison in the meantime. Wyatt, being the stubborn idiot he’s always been, categorically refused to accept her invitation and stay with her, not at all enthusiastic at the idea of playing third wheel in her and Flynn’s love nest.

He figured he should be able to handle it, there are a lot of single parents in the world, right?

Yeah, right.

“ _Hello?”_ Lucy answers, her voice gruff with sleep. It sends a stab of guilt right through his stomach, and he’d probably hang up right then and there if Sarah weren’t still crying in her crib, not enough feet away from him – he’ll pick her back up in just a minute, but his arms hurt and he can’t really talk on the phone while holding a screaming baby, right?

“ _Wyatt?”_ Lucy insists, when too many seconds pass and the only thing he’s managed to do is taking a shaky breath as he looks for the words.

“I need help,” he chokes out, tears burning in his eyes and a very annoying lump in his throat.

“ _Alright_ ,” she immediately says, softly, because she’s an angel. He doesn’t understand how she’s still _there_ after everything, he truly doesn’t. “ _I’ll be there as soon as I can, alright? Hang tight_.”

“Okay,” he mutters, and his voice sounds so thin and so pathetic, but Lucy is coming, and that means that he can breathe a little more easily, if only for a second.

The doorbell rings twenty-three minutes later, and Wyatt doesn’t even look through the peephole, because Sarah is _still_ crying in his arms, nothing is working, he doesn’t think she has a fever or anything but what the hell, maybe she’s dying of some weird disease and he should take her to the hospital— he needs help, he needs Lucy to tell him if he’s going crazy or what.

But when he opens the door it isn’t only her standing there.

“Lucy,” he breathes out, and he isn’t sure if it’s a reprimand or a plea or what, the only thing that he knows is that he doesn’t _want_ Flynn here. He can’t _deal_ with him now.

Truth be told, Wyatt is pretty sure that if the guy threw one unpleasant remark his way, even if that’s their usual way of communicating, he might start crying.

“I don’t know anything about babies,” Lucy immediately argues. “He can help, come on.”

At the end of the day, Wyatt doesn’t have much choice but letting them both in, carefully avoiding Flynn’s eyes in the foolish hope that he won’t die of embarrassment – the good thing about being _this_ tired though is that his pride is not yelling as loudly as it usually would.

“Where’s the bedroom?” Flynn asks, his tone practical, wearing a very neutral expression that Wyatt barely manages to make himself glance at.

“Up, first door to the left,” Wyatt mutters, semi-automatically. Next thing he knows, Flynn is taking Sarah from his arms, resolutely heading towards the stairs, and he’s left standing there like an idiot, his muscles relaxing as the cries get farther and farther from him, until Lucy pulls him in the direction of the kitchen.

She makes him sit down, asks him if he wants some water – he doesn’t – and how many cups of coffee he’s had – he isn’t sure –, and eventually resolves to make him some tea to help him relax a little.

“I’m fairly sure I can’t burn tea,” she says, turning towards him with a broad smile. It takes him a few moments too many to recognize it as a quip at her very lacking cooking skills, and he completely fails to take part in the joke.

He’s still too busy trying not to cry, especially now that he has _guests_.

(What was he _thinking_ when he called?)

(He was thinking that he was desperate and couldn’t take it anymore and it was either _that_ or throwing himself or Sarah or both out of a damn window.)

Lucy leaves him be, quietly making her way through his kitchen until she’s setting a cup in front of him.

“Drink up,” she smiles, sitting down at the table in the chair next to his and turning it around a little to face him better.

“Thanks,” he mutters, although he isn’t really thirsty, his stomach is all messed up and he kinda fears that he’s going to puke if he does drink.

Sarah’s cries are so faint now that they are incredibly easy to ignore, and how _glad_ he is makes him feel like shit.

“Do you think she has some horrible disease or something?” he ends up asking, drawing in a sharp breath as he grabs the cup with both hands, pulling it closer to his chest.

“Probably not,” Lucy assures. “Sometimes babies just cry.”

Wyatt snorts. “Feels like something I should know,” he mutters, cursing internally when everything gets so damn _blurry_ that he has no choice but blinking, letting a few tears fall and quickly turning his head as he wipes them away.

Not that it’s going to keep Lucy from noticing, but at least he tried.

“Wyatt,” she calls, gently, reaching over to trap his hand in both of hers. “You are still learning. It’s okay to need help.”

“I’m her _father_ ,” he says, his voice quivering dangerously. There’s already one crying baby in the house, no need to add another one, come on. “I should know if she’s dying or just hungry or— I don’t know, I should be good at making her _stop_ anyway.”

“No one starts out knowing how to be a parent,” she protests, like he’s being ridiculous. “And most people do it with a partner to help. So, until Jessica is released, just let us help, okay?” She pauses, smiling tenderly at him as she pulls his hand towards her for emphasis. “You don’t need to do it on your own, okay? You are exhausted, you need some decent sleep. Flynn says he can take care of Sarah for the night, so now you are going to drink your tea, and then we’re turning on the tv so you can unwind a little, okay? And if you fall asleep I’ll just have to tuck you in.”

“You don’t have to do all that,” he feels the urge to say, because it really feels like too _much_. This isn’t their responsibility. And Flynn is _so_ going to judge him for it. “I just needed a minute, I think I’m good now—”

“You’re not,” she says, firmly. “I know I don’t _have_ to do it, but I want to help. So tonight I’m taking care of you, you are taking a minute for yourself, Flynn is looking after Sarah and tomorrow he’s going to give you some tips, okay?”

Tips on childcare from Flynn. He’s never going to live that one down, is he?

But hell, he’s tired and his eyes keep _burning_ more and more as Lucy keeps talking, she’s holding his hand hostage and maybe he can live with this a little bit better if he tells himself he doesn’t have much of a choice. After all, Lucy is too stubborn to leave, no matter how much of a fight he puts up – and, honestly, he doesn’t have much fight left in him at the moment.

“Okay,” he finally says, taking a deep breath as he nods. “Okay. Thank you.”

Lucy’s smile widens, and for a second he genuinely feels like he can live through the night.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including: 
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


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